the birds and the worm

[minoru murakami]

Early mornings were no stranger to a certain Minoru Murakami. Ever since he was a little kid, he had been forced to get up before any normal human being should be allowed to function. Waking up before seven was no problem to the Japanese tourist. However, the small room he was currently staying in was another story. He was used to his spacious room back home where everything had a place. Nothing was where it belonged here, but Minoru had no choice but to get over it. He had a date this morning and he couldn’t be late. Something what would hopefully live up to the expectations Minoru was setting for it. It honestly hadn’t been a while since he had been up to something mischievous; though, it was his first time doing extravagant in France. He was originally sent on a ‘vacation’ of the sorts to take out an ex-Russian mobster along with half of the world. Though, they have failed to do anything about that yet despite the bright ideas that keep sparking in the mind of Minoru. Today had nothing to do with the real adventure. It was just fun. Potentially harmful fun.

There really wasn’t much else to expect from him.

Before leaving the hotel room, Minoru had to make sure he had everything he needed. This, of course, ranged from something as simple to a set of bobby pins and duct tape to something as dangerous as a pocket knife and a handgun. It was basic instinct for him to carry concealed weapons. He had been taught that it was necessary since a very young age and he couldn’t count the number of times he had needed one thing or another. Being a member of the Yakuza was no walk in the park, either. Especially not when he belonged to the Kudo-Kai section of the Japanese gang, which was infamous for its violence. Honestly, he carried too much on him, but he never felt comfortable leaving without his backpack and he wasn’t going to start leaving it behind today. He could probably pass for a student at La Luminuse if his French and English wasn’t one of the worst things on the world. His accent was heavy and he never really knew where exactly he was going, but he did his best and never asked for directions. Amazingly, he made it to the place Nikolai had agreed for them to meet and followed the Russian to Tommas’ flat. The Italian had promised them both these things called “pancakes.” Minoru had never heard of them and neither had Nikolai so they were determined to hold Tommas to his word. And also make him pay for being an asshole the previous night.

“How are we going to do this?” Minoru asked quietly as he stared at the door to Tommas’ flat through his purple glasses. He hoped Nikolai could understand him. His accent was thick and his French was absolutely dreadful. He didn’t understand why they had so many letters but hardly any of them were pronounced and, quite frankly, it pissed him off that they had to be so complicated. Japanese was simple. There were hardly any hidden or missing letters and everything was easy to pronounce. With his language not even having an l in their alphabet, he always pronounced it with a slight rrl.

“I could pick it,” he added after a moment and started to dig in the pocket of his jeans, “or break it.” And by break, he meant blow it off its hinges. The goal of the morning was to ultimately get inside Tommas’ home and wake his lazy ass up. They could do that in stealth or they can get in and wake him up all in one go. What was the phrase? Two birds with one stones? Minoru obviously would prefer to take that route. Explosions were always fun. However, he doubted Nikolai would agree. Hardly anyone ever did.

tags: nikolai/seven and tommas/vince
words: 666
outfit: clilcky!
notes: sucky first post is sucky~
credits: template belongs to moi; lyrics from a moth under the skin by the gazette

[/justify]

[nikolai ivanovich harkov]

It was still dark when Nikolai woke up, but considering the time of year this wasn't a difficult thing to do. He didn't get up right away, taking a few minutes to map out his day. His morning would be occupied with the acquisition of pancakes. He rubbed his face groggily when he remembered this. Random elements in his schedule were always troublesome. He had no idea how that was going to go down, or how long it would last. Better minimize the business he'd have to accomplish that day. While it was true that his primary goal was to find and terminate his bother and nephew, his father was a prudent businessman that never missed an opportunity. Sending his next-in-line abroad opened up some opportunities. Their branch of the Russian mob was an international organization, for all that it was headquartered in St. Petersburg. They had plenty of connections throughout the world, and Paris was no exception. Nikolai was about as trustworthy a representative as there could be, and his position held enough weight within the Brotherhood to be meaningful. He had a mental list of people that he would have to check in on at some point, but today he would allow himself to take a break. Surprisingly, conspiring to kill two people with representatives from several different mafias, maintaining a plausible cover story and part-time job, and maintaining connections with several of your father's friends and employees took a lot of effort.

Oh, and whoever thought that numerous individuals from several organized crime rings from across the world would make an efficient team to kill two people... well, they needed their head examined. Niko understood that it was some tradition, but this cluster fuck was the least productive lot he'd ever seen. Had he been acting alone he would have figured out some efficient system and made a clean, quiet hit. Of course it was easy to assume this, looking at it from his perspective. The grass is always greener and all that. As he considered all of his little complaints about the situation, he set about getting ready for his day. He conveniently ignored the root issue for all of his ill-will toward the situation. The man they were hunting was his brother. He couldn't avoid that fact forever, but for today, at least, he was going to forget it. Today would be a mini-vacation from the drain of his other responsibilities. With this reassuring thought he grabbed a leather jacket and his handgun before heading out the door.

Niko didn't go many places without a weapon, and a breakfast with "friends" was no exception. He met Minoru at their allotted rendezvous point exactly on time. Nikolai couldn't handle tardiness, so he greeted Minoru with more good feeling than would be expected. The walk to Tommy's home was short, and Nikolai spent it in silence. When they actually reached the front door, he looked at the lock, the door frame, and then up and down the street. He took a step back, standing relaxed with his hands in his jacket pockets. "Quietly. We don't want to draw attention." If there was one thing Niko hated, it was unwanted attention. It was dangerous and annoying. He had learned of the Yakuza member's affinity for explosives and could only assume that was the course of action he was leaning toward. The street was fairly deserted, but the guy had neighbors. "Pick the lock if you can. If we want to give him a rude awakening, it would be best to start once we're already inside... so no on else has to be concerned about it." As he said this he inclined his head toward one of the windows of the next apartment. He wasn't calling the shots, though, and by literally standing back from the situation he was clearly just offering his counsel. He could disappear in an instant if things went sour.

Niko's French was decent. If he put some effort into it, it was actually quite good. His English was considerably worse, sporting a strong accent that rolled all of the "r"s and turned the "w"s into "v"s. It got worse with increased anger or frustration, which just compounded the problem. He could understand Minoru well enough to suit their purposes. That is, breaking and entering with minimal conversation. Now, if they were trying to make a point to all of the neighbors Nikolai would be far less tactful. He'd kick down the door, probably be flanked by two other men, and everyone would be carrying semi-automatic rifles. As things stood, it was unlikely that the locals were aware that Tommas was a mobster, and Niko was all about keeping a low profile when it was called for. Leaning back against the railing, he mused quietly, "If you had something to blow the lock without a big disturbance then we'd all be happy, no?"

[tommas ugo renda]

When one of Tom's nightmares ended, he didn't shock into the waking world like some people did. No, he woke up rather slowly, whether he was having a horrible, mentally scarring nightmare or a dream full of fluffy things and clouds. In fact, if there was any good time to attack him without him fighting back, it was when he was in the process of waking up. It was a slow thing; he normally floated somewhere between being awake and sleeping for at least seven minutes before regaining full consciousness. When Minoru and Nikolai arrived outside his door, he was about five minutes into that process, asleep where he had fallen last night after getting a little too annoyed at the aforementioned men. Tom was splayed out on the bed, his cheek resting on his arm and Enrico – the chocolate ragdoll cat that practically owned the house - curled up on his back. His eyes were half open, but he wasn't taking in any of his surroundings. The thick blanket that he normally slept under only reached up to his waist this morning, since his nightmare had caused him roll over and kick a bit in his sleep. His feet were sticking out from under it, too, but that was probably because the blanket was too short to cover all of him, even on a normal day.

After a few minutes, though, he was fully awake. He still didn't have the willpower or motivation to get out of bed, but at least he could process information and form coherent thoughts. Making a sleepy noise and grabbing Enrico, he rolled on his side, holding the devil of a cat to his heavily tattooed chest. Tom normally slept without a single scrap of clothing because it was simply more comfortable for him, but he'd fallen asleep early last night, and the only item of clothing he'd taken off was his shirt. His jeans were wrinkled, which was annoying, but whatever. He just wanted to sleep more, but by that time he was already too awake to burrow back under the blanket. But by the time Tom had sat up and was preparing to rummage through his closet for a shirt, the smell of cigarette smoke reached his nose. Now, that was pretty normal to smell in Paris, but the smell was normally diluted from having to come through a window that Tom has accidentally left open. It rarely came from... well, wherever it was coming from, it was strong, so pretty close to him. Which meant in his house, but that didn't make any sense. Why would cigarette smoke be coming from somewhere inside his house? Tommas didn't smoke.

It wasn't soon after that that the smoke alarm started ringing, which just confirmed the guess that the smoke was coming from his house. Those things were annoying, and the loud beeps gave him a headache that he didn't want to deal with today. Grabbing a screwdriver – a useful thing, both a potential weapon and a way to shut off the smoke detector – he rushed into the living room, shooting a dark glance at the two guys standing there and smoking before climbing onto the couch and disabling the loud piece of technology. Once the batteries were removed, he stuffed them into the pocket of his jeans, jumping off the couch and pointing the screwdriver at Minoru and Nikolai in a rather threatening way. ”Which of you fuckers thought it would be funny to set off the smoke alarm?” he snapped, watching them through narrow eyes and trying to stop shivering. It was seven in the morning in the middle of winter, and his house was absolutely freezing. If they asked for pancakes, Tom swore that he'd push them out a window. It was a second story flat, after all. The Calabrian mafia member was at least five inches taller than both of the men in front of him, but he was lanky, and not exactly threatening. ”And why the hell are you here? It's not even eight yet!” Sane people needed their sleep, even if he'd already been awake when they had arrived...

WORDS 694
NOTES let the fun begin...

[minoru murakami]

Minoru was a contradiction in the flesh. He was violent beyond reason yet preferred a passive aggressive outlet. While beating the shit out of someone with his fists sounded like a good idea, he’d rather set a trap and wait. Dramatics were a must, as well. The bigger the better was a popular idea to him and he often needed someone by his side to pull him back down to Earth. However, his contradictions didn’t stop there. He was very organized yet as reckless as he could be. He was never worried back in Japan about people finding out if he was part of the Yazuka or not. In Japan, they were a common fact everyone had to get used to. They weren’t afraid of making a scene or public attacks. At least his sector wasn’t. He was allowed to be reckless as long as he was skilled enough to evade the Japanese police – which he was. Perhaps that’s why his love for explosions was allowed to grow as much as it did. Too bad it clouded his thoughts half the time; Minoru had to constantly remind himself that catching the public’s attention could ruin the entire mission.

It was a good thing Nikolai was beside him or he might have done just that and blown the entire door off its hinges.

The Japanese man pulled a couple of bobby pins out of his pocket and crouched in front of the door. Locks have not managed to escape Minoru’s fascination with taking trinkets apart and putting them back together. This has helped him figure out how to successfully pick a lock. Granted, each one was different but they had the same basic make-up. They were never too different or too difficult to pick. All it took was a little force, some play, and patience. Minoru had a tiny grin on his face as he straightened the two pins and slipped them both in to the lock. A little fiddling here and a little fiddling there was all it took. After a moment, Minoru was able to quietly open the front door and peek inside before giving Nikolai a triumphant smirk. Slowly, the man stood straight and slipped the bobby pins back into his pocket. Though, when he withdrew his hand, he held a pack of foreign cigarettes, tapped one out, and put it between his lips before slipping the pack back in to his pocket. Minoru stepped in to Tommas’ place and glanced around. Gradually his eyes jumped up to the ceiling until he spotted something interesting. A fire alarm.

Minoru’s gaze fell to Nikolai and wondered if he was thinking the same thing Minoru was. Without a single word, Minoru reached in to his pack pocket and pulled out a black lighter, thumbed the ignition, and lit his cigarette with a long drag. A pleased sigh sounded and smoke slipped from between his lips and curled mystically around his head. Minoru’s dark gaze followed the trail of the pale smoke with slight entertainment. It might take a moment or two but the moment that detector would eventually catch the smoke and go off. And it did. The sound was annoying as hell but it brought a devilish smirk to his lips. It would undoubtedly bring Tommas to them.

Minoru gave his head a little tilt as he heard the giant make his way out of his room. The cigarette was still sitting gently between his lips and that mischievous glint in his eyes shined even brighter when he realized his new friend was in a bad mood from it all. It was what he got for being a little asshole the previous night and disappearing when he made both Nikolai and Minoru curious about these “pancakes.”

“Good morning to you, too,” he said with a little smile. Minoru spoke slowly and carefully after pulling the cigarette from his lips and holding it between his first two fingers. He did his best to pronounce everything perfectly so he didn’t mess anything up. He realized, after a mistake, that there were words that were one sound off from being a horribly different word. “We are here because you promised us breakfast. These… ‘pan-cakes’ that you spoke of. We want some.”

tags: nikolai/seven and tommas/vince
words: 703
outfit: clilcky!
notes: :3
credits: template belongs to moi; lyrics from a moth under the skin by the gazette

[/justify]

[nikolai ivanovich harkov]

Nikolai probably made friends too easily, considering his line of work. He genuinely liked people, almost all people. That was the aspect of mafia life he had the most problem with. The lies, betrayal, deception... of course, this was a sizable part of it, and there wasn't much room for queasiness on his part. Still, he hated screwing someone over after getting to know them, based purely on the whims of his father. All he could do was suck it up and deal with it. As he looked down at Minoru, occupied with picking the lock, and then at the door behind which Tommy was probably sleeping, he couldn't help but wonder if he was making the same mistake. He wasn't sure if he regarded them as friends yet, but just interacting with them on this personal level could be dangerous. It was doubtful that his Brotherhood would risk inciting a mafia war by messing with either of their Golden Children. He liked to limit his friends either to people sufficiently tied in to the mafia to not be a potential target, or people so far outside of it that chances of getting them messed up in were slim to none. It wasn't a foolproof system, and Nikolai had had to deal with losing more than a couple friends from minor disputes.

The lock gave a satisfying click before his worries could escalate. It hadn't taken any time at all. Nikolai himself probably could have managed a lock that basic. You'd think Tommy would know t invest in better locks. Or maybe the whole reason he didn't care was precisely because of who he was. He knew no one in the Brotherhood had to deal with break-ins back home; all the criminals were well aware of who they shouldn't mess with. Still, things were more low-key here and honestly, he couldn't see Tommy going after a robber. He'd probably offer him a beer or something. He had to fight back the urge to roll his eyes just thinking about it. He stepped wordlessly over the threshold behind Minoru and clicked the door shut behind him. A glance up and down the street had confirmed that their entry had gone unnoticed. Once inside, he scanned the apartment to gain his bearings. There was a door that probably led to the bedroom, and judging from the silence Tommy was most likely still in there. His next objective was to think up a way to startle the fuck out of the guy. His gaze landed on the smoke detector at the same time as Minoru's did. With a wicked grin he pulled out a carton of cigarettes and drew one out. Cupping his hands over the end of it, he lit it with a silver cigarette lighter before placing the thing back in his pocket.

With a step toward the detector, Nikolai tilted his head back and blew a stream of smoke at it. He watched the wisps float up and go into the slits in the side, prepared for the alarm to go off at any moment. There was a chance that the thing wasn't functional, but then they could always find another way to do this. As the thing started blaring its irritating noise, he sauntered into the living room section of the apartment and sat down on a couch. As expected, the heavy footsteps of one hulking Italian came from behind the presumed-bedroom door. He flashed a grin at the glaring Tommas as the latter set about disabling the alarm without a word to either of them. He took his cigarette between two fingers and simply shrugged when Tom looked from one to the other, apparently hoping to assign some blame. Clearly they both thought it would be an amusing way to pass the morning, otherwise there was no point to it.

He looked at Minoru as the Yakuza member explained the purpose of their visit. He was sitting back on the couch, and really in no hurry to move. He could see that it would be a little while before Tommas could be coaxed into making pancakes. ”You can't just make an offer like that and then go back on it. That's not honorable at all.” He rested his steady gaze on the guy, replacing his cigarette and smiling around it. After a moment he took the thing out and asked, ”And why the fuck is it so cold in here? This is Paris, not Cherdin,” naming a Siberian town at random.

[tommas ugo renda]

If the numbers hadn't been so uneven, Tom probably would have thrown Minoru out the window the second the word 'pancakes' crossed his lips. As it was, it was two versus one, and Tom wasn't that confident when it came to his fighting skills. Especially when it was against a Russian mafia member and part of the Yakuza, whom he both considered his friends and would probably have a problem with hurting. But still, the window sounded so tempting.. Knowing Minoru, though, Tom was lucky that he didn't have to buy a new door or anything. He was a tiny bit thankful for the fact that they hadn't destroyed anything, but waking up this early was still annoying for him. Honestly, not even school started this early. ”Morning,” he said, leaving off the good and saying the single worded greeting with a tad of a sulky air. He wasn't going to attack them, but he wasn't going to be full of sunshine, either. Tom normally put on a little mask of stupidity and happiness, but lately it had been slipping. Probably because the date was drawing near when he would have to actually take some action against Lexin, and he still hadn't decided whether he was actually going to go after the older man or not. There was still the option of abandoning the mission, after all.

Glancing at Nikolai, Tom honestly couldn't believe that the lab technician was having less trouble with this than the dancer was. Nikolai was Lexin's brother, wasn't he? Was he really that much of a robot? Of course, that had been Tommy's initial reason for labeling Nikolai as a robot. How heartless did someone need to be to try and kill their own brother? The Russian didn't show any visible signs of having problems with it, but then again, Tom was just used to wearing his heart on his sleeve. Anything looked guarded and closed to someone like him, when he was comparing it to himself. Nikolai didn't seem to be quitting, though. That was mildly reassuring to Tom, telling him that maybe he could get through it too, but he was never going to tell Nikolai that. If Lexin's own brother could target Lexin, so could the overly sensitive and emotional Italian dance student.

”I didn't promise you anything,” Tom grumbled, turning to snatch a random shirt that was lying around and pull it over his head. No need to be up this early in the morning and freeze to death on top of it all. ”Anyway, even if I did, that was officially retracted when you two became annoying fucks. What in the world possessed you to wake me up this early?” It was like waking up a hibernating bear, to be honest. If he'd still been fully asleep when they'd managed to turn on the smoke detector, Tom probably would have tried throwing them out a window, no matter how likely it was that he would just get hurt in the process. ”It's cold because it saves on the heating bill. Deal with it.” Tom had thick blankets to cover him when he was asleep, so why would he need the flat to be warm, too? It was wasting energy and money, and even though Tom wasn't an American or anything, time and energy were still money in his mind, which shouldn't be wasted. He'd picked some things up from his father, even though everyone said that he was the polar opposite of the old man. But he couldn't let himself get distracted by things like that now; there were more important things to deal with, like kicking these two out of his house.

Or maybe not. Looking at them, Tommas realized that he actually enjoyed the company, no matter how early it was in the damned frigid morning. He hesitated for a moment before letting out an annoyed huff of air and turning to walk into the kitchen. ”Fine!” he groaned, throwing his hands up in the air before gesturing for them to follow him and take seats at the counter. ”Put the cigarettes away, I don't want you bastards smoking in my house if I'm doing you a favor and making you breakfast.” No one had said that he had to be the most welcoming cook in the world.

WORDS 726
NOTES sorry, i wrote it too fast... 8|

[minoru murakami]

Minoru could feel the locks of his hair brush against his cheek and neck as he shook his head slowly in protest to Tommas’ claim. Honestly, the Japanese man didn’t care if Tommas outright promised him pancakes or not. The man wanted to try pancakes, and the man got what the man wanted. It was just the way it worked. At least in his mind. Others, like Tommas, obviously seemed to think otherwise. Though, Minoru was a persistent bastard and if he had to hound the Italian all day, he would. Even if the other’s mood was comparable to an old badger. Minoru has dealt with something similar before, and he could do it again. “Stop being such an asshole, Tommas; that is the reason we decided to ambush your giant self so early in the morning.” Granted, he dealt with things rather…. tactlessly most of the time.

Minoru brought the cigarette back to his lips and casually made his way into the living room as if he didn’t just insult the man with a thought he previously kept to himself. Slipping his backpack off his shoulder, he set the black hunk of fabric and hidden treasures on the nearest chair and turned so his wandering eyes could find his new friends again. Or at least acquaintances he wouldn’t mind being around. These two seemed to have a good head on their shoulders – especially Nikolai – and he didn’t mind their company like he did most others. While he didn’t trust them with his life – who would trust anyone in the mafia with their life? – he at least trusted them more than he did anyone else. Notwithstanding the fact that that trust might as well be compared to a few drops of water in a desert that is otherwise bone dry. At least it wasn’t nothing at all. Though, that didn’t mean he didn’t trust these two to not fuck up the mission. One was the target’s brother and the other seemed a little… hesitant about the whole ordeal. Minoru had no doubt that Nikolai would back out last minute – if it was his own brother, he would, anyway – because killing blood is just ruthless. Then again, he grew up in a culture that threaded a family together like a tightly knit quilt… At least until someone messed up and then the entire name is disgraced. Well… Perhaps that was enough to kill blood. Lexin had obviously disgraced the name by messing around outside his blood line. Just has Himura had disgraced her family by doing the same – and bore a child no less. Minoru was surprised she was still alive. The Yakuza remove limbs and digits as warnings for less than this. It seemed the Russians were a tad bit more ruthless. Minoru wasn’t here to kill Himura, after all. Then again, she was a ‘princess’.

“Turn the heat up or I’ll start a fire!” he spoke around the cigarette, making his already muddled words even worse. Honestly, Minoru wasn’t bothered by the temperature. Nikolai made a fuss and he decided to be a bitch by adding on to it. “Save on heat when you don’t have people. What kind of host are you?” As if he had a choice of being a host or not. As the words left his lips, his voice took on a more teasing tone. Little Tommy-chan was already in a bad mood and he didn’t want to add on to it if he was going to be the one to sit here and listen to it. If he really wanted pancakes, he could probably find a restaurant around here that serves them… somewhere. Though, as soon as Tommas caved, a grin stretched across Minoru’s features and he hurried over to the kitchen counter so he could sit and watch the chef at work. “Unless you have an ashtray, I’m not putting this out.” It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to rub his cigarette out at and he only had so many of his favorite packs. He wasn’t going to waste one cancer stick because of some complaint. And to prove this, he took a long drag and slowly exhaled, the pale wisps gradually rising around his face.

“So…” he took the cigarette out of his mouth and held it between two fingers, “What exactly are pan.. cakes again?”

tags: nikolai/seven and tommas/vince
words: 725
outfit: clilcky!
notes: :3
credits: template belongs to moi; lyrics from a moth under the skin by the gazette

[/justify]

[nikolai ivanovich harkov]

Say what you wanted about the mafia, but even the most serious among them appreciated some levity. Watching Minoru and Tommas bicker back and forth was providing some much needed humor to what would be an otherwise bleak and stressful life. If you didn't take some time to sit back and laugh at some absurdity or another, you would collapse under the pressure. So Nikolai sat back on the couch, waiting for a moment to cut in with his own comments but for the present enjoying the listening. He didn't move to shrug off his jacket; the place was hardly any warmer than outdoors. His face was smooth and impassive, although a smile tugged at a corner of his mouth. His eyebrows rose slightly when Minoru threatened to light the apartment on fire, or start a fire, or something. In any case, it was mildly alarming. Only because, coming from the Yakuza member, you were never quite sure if he was joking or not. More likely than not he was dead serious.

”No, don't do that. It might damage some of this charming décor...” The man had gotten up from the couch and was lightly running his fingertips over some of the furniture. His tone was bored but undeniably sarcastic. Ignoring the order to put out his cigarette, Nikolai sauntered after the two men into the kitchen. ”It seems a little sad that you need to save on your heating bill. Is the Calabrian Mafia facing hard times? Or did your father cut you off?” His shadow of a smile turned into a grin briefly, his eyes suddenly focusing on the taller man. He wasn't trying to push buttons, not exactly. He didn't particularly like irritating people, but the entire purpose of this visit was to mess with Tommy. He was just... carrying on with the original plan. So far it seemed to be working perfectly. Somehow Tommy had decided to not throw them out and was actually going to make them breakfast. Considering their behavior up to this point, this was a small miracle.

How a guy like Tommas ended up in the mafia was mind-boggling. Now, Minoru... that made sense. That guys just needed some outlet for his crazy side. But then, who really chose whether or not to be a part of organized crime? Sure, people could stay small and get out when they chose, if they were careful, but when you were born into it? And born high up, like the three of them had been? Minoru would probably have found his way to some crime ring no matter where he started out, but a guy like Tommas?

Nikolai snapped himself out of his thoughts before the others could notice his attention wandering. It said something about how much he trusted them that he wold space out for even a second around them. Or, at least, something about how confident he was in his ability to defend himself. They were all on the same team for the time being, but he didn't believe for a second that this partnership would extend beyond this job. As soon as one of them got an opposing order from mommy and daddy they would fall into line and do what needed to be done. He was currently the next in line to lead the Russian mafia, but for the preset he was little more than a highly trusted attack dog. Just the fact that they had gone this long without killing one another was a small victory in itself. There were simply too many players in this operation. When it came down to these two men in the room, though, Nikolai wasn't too worried. They were here for pancakes, not bloodshed.

It wasn't any warmer in the kitchen, but perhaps the temperature would go up once the cooking started. In truth Nikolai didn't mind the cold; he was a Russian, after all, and used to things far more extreme than this. He leaned back against a wall and studied his two companions. What an unlikely bunch they made. ”Yes, please explain what makes these pancake things so special.”

[tommas ugo renda]

”I'm not being an asshole,” Tom growled, glaring down at the Japanese man. This was his normal mood at, what, six in the morning? Minoru should have expected him to be this way. In fact, he probably had, but whatever. Tommas had the full right to be in a bad mood at the moment, though the same excuse didn't cover all the other times that he'd acted badly around his so called friends. He had other excuses for those times... Like the fact that he was normally hungover, thinking about his job, or being pestered by people like Minoru and Nikolai. They weren't very good excuses, but they existed, didn't they? ”And I'm not that much of a giant...” Tall and lanky, sure, but... not that giant. Tom knew he shouldn't care about what Minoru and Nikolai though about him when they were joking – at least, Tom assumed they were – but it still got to him. It always had, which was part of the reason that he was in such a bad place. Not just in Paris, or making these two idiots some pancakes, but... this whole situation in general.

The mafia business. Tom had been born into it, sure, but nowhere in whatever contract with fate that had signed him up for this had required him to enjoy his family's business, and he was taking full advantage of that to hate the situation that he'd been placed in. He couldn't hurt anyone, so how was he supposed to thrive in this type of world? One positive thing that he could say about that was that he wasn't about to back out of this job at the last minute. No, if he backed out, it would be a long time before anything actually happened. He was reliable, but as his family saw it, he was a reliable failure. He was always going to run and hide, or try to find a way to complete the mission with the least pain possible to people, good or bad. Maybe that would have been useful in the police force, but the mafia? No, if he didn't shape up soon, it had already been made clear that they'd have to fix him some other way. Like, you know... things that were just fine in his world, but not really legal in the normal world. As was most of the business that his family did.

”Start a fire and I'll throw you into the garbage disposal,” he said, making the obviously empty threat as cheerful as it could possibly sound. Not only was Minoru too human-shaped and big to fit into the garbage disposal, but Tom wouldn't do something like that anyway. Though, honestly, it would be one of the easier ways of killing someone. Just push them in, flinch, and cry afterward, but they would still be dead. The Calabrian shot a glare at Nikolai and his sarcasm before taking the pancake mix out of his cupboard, the bowls and mixing utensils from beneath the sink and various cabinets. ”I don't need to save on it, I just want to. It seems useless to keep the house warm when I barely ever have anyone over here in the first place, and I don't mind the cold. Anyway, it encourages unwelcome guests to get the fuck out.” Tom made his voice remain calm for the entire little speech, but his message couldn't have been more plain. The Italian didn't want Minoru and Nikolai to be here. It was too late to shoo them out now, though, when he'd already started getting butter and eggs out of the fridge.

It was an interesting thought that even though he was normally so comfortable around these two, there were still things that he didn't tell them. Yes, his father limited the money that was provided for Tom. Though his schooling was fully paid for and he had enough cash to keep himself – and the random fridge raider that stopped by – fed, there was a reason that he lived in a flat instead of some fancy penthouse. He saw no reason to tell his friends that, though. If only for the sole reason that they were powerful figures in other mafias, he didn't want to seem even weaker than he already looked to them. Already was, for that matter. It wasn't just a matter of perception when Tommas was legitimately weak. Shooing his ball of demon-inhabited fur out of the kitchen, the cook of the day turned back to Minoru and Nikolai. ”Pancakes are important because they're pancakes!” he exclaimed, widening his eyes in a rather innocent way and offering no more explanation. When they invaded his house and made him work in the kitchen this early in the morning, they didn't deserve any more of an explanation.

WORDS 803
NOTES random mood change

[minoru murakami]

“You obvious don’t know the definition of an asshole,” Minoru rolled his eyes with a sly grin, the cigarette resting gently between two fingers. “Or perhaps I’m just saying the wrong thing,” his voice drifted off into a curious hum. It was very possible Minoru could be confusing one word for another. He was speaking a language that wasn’t Japanese, after all, and he hated it. Everything sounded so ugly. Almost as bad as English. No, worse than English. At least they used most of the letters they put into a word. Who the hell knows what he was saying? For all he knew, he could be getting everything wrong. Well, maybe not everything. He had to have been getting some things right if he was carrying a conversation. Still, he couldn’t help but to glance over at Nikolai, the confusion evident in his gaze even though he still held the ghost of a grin. “Besides!” Minoru blurted after a moment and turned his gaze back to Tommy, “This isn’t the first time you’ve acted like this.” Though, Minoru didn’t pursue it any further after that. He even let the giant comment slide. Minoru didn’t care what Tommas said. He was a fucking giant. No one should be that tall. No one. Of course it didn’t help that the Japanese man was only about seven inches over five feet. He was short compared to a lot of other males, he realized. He must have been the stereotypical Asian. What fucking joy.

Except he wasn’t the stereotypical Asian. He was short but he wasn’t small and lanky. He could beat the shit out of people twice his size if he tried hard enough. Though, he could thank his background for that. Being part of the Yakuza had its perks. If someone pissed him off, he could take care of them and no one could do anything about it. He was dangerous in Japan. He was known and wanted. He honestly had no regrets when it came to what he had done. If he had the chance to escape, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t help but think that no one else was meant to be the son of the leader of the Kudo-kai than Minoru was. Still, Minoru couldn’t help but wonder… If he had been put in a different home, would he be like this? Did he only enjoy it because it was all he knew? No. That couldn’t be it. Minoru wasn’t a psychiatrist by any means but even he knew something was not right with him. His obsession with fire was just one of the many things that was wrong. Minoru couldn’t help but think that maybe he was born into the Murakami family for a reason. Perhaps he wouldn’t have possibly fit anywhere else because of who he was. What he was. Fate was one of the only things he believed in. Everything happened for a reason. Did that mean there was a reason he was sent to France? Was he supposed to find something here? Perhaps there was more to these two acquaintances than what he expected. He didn’t know and he wasn’t going to snoop to find out. If it was going to happen, it will happen. He can’t find it. Didn’t care to find it. One way or another, he was sure it would happen. All he could do was pretend he had even an inkling of a grasp on his life.

And enjoy all he could in the moment he was offered.

Minoru couldn’t help but laugh at Tommas’ threat and a wicked grin claimed his pierced lips. “The garbage disposal?” he mused mockingly and tilted his head to the side in wonder. Just how was Tommy-chan supposed to do that? “First you theaten to throw me out a window and now you threaten to feed me to the garbage disposal?” Now his voice took on an obviously feigned hurt, “Oh, Tommy-chan, you’re so abusive!” Honestly, Minoru took all threats from the giant Italian as empty. Not once has he seen the man do anything remotely close to violent. In fact, all he really saw was a drunk asshole most of the time. If Minoru didn’t know better, he would have never guessed Tommas was part of a gang or the mafia. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was the family name that kept him in the business of organized crime. It definitely wasn’t because he was meant to be a part of it. Nothing about Tommy’s personality screamed danger. Not unless someone had an intense fear of abnormally tall people.

“See, this was what I was talking about! You’re an asshole,” so much for not pursuing the topic any farther. “You just indirectly told us to get the fuck out. If you don’t want us over, just tell us.” It was hard for Minoru not to giggle just a little. He was well aware Tommas wasn’t enjoying their company or at least Minoru’s company. But of course he wouldn’t admit that he knew: “Nah,” Minoru took a long drag of his cigarette, watching the lit end of it ignite amber before slowly dying as he exhaled the smoke, “We know you love us.” There was a quick pause before another rather confused expression lit up Minoru’s features. “That makes no sense! Saying pancakes are important because they’re pancakes is like defining a word with the word.”

tags: nikolai/seven and tommas/vince
words: 903
outfit: clilcky!
notes: :3
credits: template belongs to moi; lyrics from a moth under the skin by the gazette

[/justify]